


Chicken Soup

by clare009



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-29
Updated: 2012-08-29
Packaged: 2017-11-13 03:24:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/498922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clare009/pseuds/clare009
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even Timelords get sick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chicken Soup

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TygerTyger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TygerTyger/gifts).



The TARDIS landed more loudly than usual, and River clutched at the bars to her cell in expectation. She'd only been banged up in prison for a few months, but the Doctor always saw to it she never had a dull moment. When the idiot didn't come sauntering or leaping out with a smirk or a grin on his face, she frowned.  
  
River, not one to wait for an invitation, unlocked her cell with the skeleton key she'd swiped from the warden's office and hurried towards the TARDIS. The blue doors creaked open for her and let her inside. They swung shut with a click behind her.   
  
The console room was silent. She could feel the steady hum of the engines at rest under her feet, and the child-like song of the TARDIS wound its way through her head, but those were all things she'd become accustomed to. Something was missing, namely, one silly Timelord in a ridiculous hat smiling at her as he whizzed around the console trying to show off.   
  
She walked up the stairs, the sound of her footfalls echoing in the quiet. Even the lights were dimmed.   
  
"Doctor?"  
  
There was no reply and a chill settled inside her. River set to work. She toggled switches by instinct, searching the TARDIS and honing in on her Timelord, the only one in the known universe. As she pulled the scanner around to view the screen, she saw the blip of his life signs marking his location. Oh, he was here, all right.   
  
She raced up and through the TARDIS corridors until she found the room she was looking for. River banged open the door to the library and walked into darkness.  
  
"Doctor..." She dropped her voice low and fumbled at her belt for the torch she always carried. "I can hear you breathing."  
  
"Go away," he said, "I'b dying."  
  
River flicked on her torch and trained it in the direction of his voice. She found him huddled against a set of Encyclopedia Britannicas. He raised his hand to block out the light. "You're what?"   
  
"I said I'b dying." He wheezed, then the wheeze turned into a hoarse cough. "I don't suppose I'll even regenerate. I'm quite sure I can feel both my hearts giving out on be at once."  
  
Rolling her eyes, River shut off her torch as she flicked on the lights. The Doctor cowered under the glare and pulled a raggedy tartan blanket up to his chin. "For god's sake. You've got a cold."  
  
"A cold?" He shook his head. "Oh no. I don't get colds. I don't even get sick, well, not hardly. No, this is buch buch worse. I really am dying, River."  
  
With a sigh of frustration, she kneeled next to him and put her hand on his forehead. "See," she said. "You're as cold as a wet fish. Not even the slightest bit warm."  
  
"There, I told you so."  
  
"You're always as cold as a wet fish, you idiot. Why do you think I make you wear socks in bed?"  
  
"Oh." He looked a little crestfallen. "But what about this?" he said, pointing to his nose.  
  
"What about it?"  
  
"I can't breathe. A creature has burrowed up by nose and will probably be making dinner out of by brain soon."  
  
"You're congested, sweetie. That's what happens when you get a cold. Now come on, let's get you to bed." She reached for his hand, but he flinched away from her.  
  
"Honestly, do you really think now is the tibe for that sort of thing? River!" He sneezed loudly and wiped his nose across his sleeve.   
  
"God no," River said. "You can have the bed to yourself. But you need to get some rest. Wallowing in the dark is not going to make you feel any better."  
  
He looked up at her, his eyes wide and vulnerable. "You bean I'b not dying?"  
  
"No, dear, you're not." As she helped him to his feet and guided him out the room, she said under her breath, "but I might just kill you myself."  
  
While he was resting, she questioned the TARDIS interface, which, for some reason, was stuck as a holographic representation of a young Amelia Pond, on the various ailments Timelords were susceptible to. There weren't many--while they'd existed, the Timelords had done an excellent job at classifying all known viruses and bacteria and making sure they were immune to them.   
  
"Well, things evolve and mutate all the time," she said to herself. "He's just going to have to live with the fact that he's not as invincible as he once was."   
  
River was a Doctor of Archeology, but she knew enough about field medicine to treat simple injuries and illnesses. A cold was not going to get the better of her, even if it was a Timelord cold. With what she could find in the TARDIS infirmary, she put together a decongestant and antiviral concoction, and added it all to the pot of Heinz chicken noodle soup she had heating over a bunsen burner.   
  
She brought the Doctor his medicine on a tray with some toast on the side (a little scorched from the bunsen burner).   
  
"What's this?" he said as he sat up in bed.  
  
"When we were kids together, my mum would feed me chicken soup when I was sick. It always made me feel better."  
  
The Doctor eyed the bowl that River presented to him. "I've had Amelia's cooking before and it nearly killed me. Are you sure that's not going to poison be?"  
  
"I would never try to poison you, sweetie. Well, not again, at least. Now drink up before it gets cold."  
  
He took the bowl in his hands and sipped at it. "You know, it's not so bad once you get past the metallic taste."  
  
"Ah yes. I wasn't sure how long that particular tin had been sitting in the back of the TARDIS kitchen cupboards for." She patted him on the back. "Now drink up like a good boy. You'll be back to normal in no time. Well, normal for you at any rate."  
  
Fifteen minutes later and the Doctor was fast asleep. What with his dulled sense of taste, he hadn't even realised she'd dosed him with a strong sedative along with the other stuff. River pulled the blankets up and tucked him in, then smoothed his hair from his eyes.  
  
"Whatever shall I do while you're recovering," she said as she leaned in to place a kiss on his forehead. "All of time and space... I'm sure I'll think of something."

**Author's Note:**

> For EasyThereTyger - hope you feel better!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't claim to represent the creators of Doctor Who. I'm am not making money off this story.


End file.
